


all the devils are here

by outofthesun



Series: tempest [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Background Yuriashe, Dimiclaude Wild Weekend (Fire Emblem), Dom/sub, F/F, Foreplay, M/M, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Sub!Dimitri, background hildamari, background sylvix, dom!claude
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:41:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26651578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/outofthesun/pseuds/outofthesun
Summary: Dimitri hasn't been on the scene for a while, but an old friend's more than happy to give him a refresher course.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Claude von Riegan
Series: tempest [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1941625
Comments: 10
Kudos: 59
Collections: Dimiclaude Wild Weekend





	all the devils are here

**Author's Note:**

> Note: there is a (very) brief Yuri/Claude/Ashe scene, but I promise the focus is definitely Dimiclaude!
> 
> Written for Dimiclaude's Wild Weekend Day 1: foreplay, toys, and public.

Dimitri hasn’t frequented this sort of club in years.

“Remind me again, Sylvain, why I let you talk me into this?”

Dimitri’s not been to _Tempest_ before, isn’t sure if it had even been open the last time he’d been to a place like this - but the sights and sounds and smells are achingly familiar. There’s the sound of a paddle hitting skin somewhere, and the room’s heavy with the sharp scent of leather and sweat and arousal - the intensity of it makes him dizzy. 

Ignoring Dimitri’s question, Sylvain turns to Felix, who is studiously avoiding both of their gazes and shifting uncomfortably. “Fe, why don’t you go to the bar and get Dimitri a glass of water.”

Felix moves, uncharacteristically, without protest, and attracts several appreciative glances en route. Sylvain’s put him in a diaphanous sort of robe, sheer, covering very little, and for all his arguments earlier in the evening Dimitri can tell that the flush on his face isn’t just from embarrassment. 

The decor’s different, and the house rules marginally stricter - but if he squints, it feels unnervingly like the sorts of places he used to visit five years ago. Dimitri’s grown accustomed to squirrelling that part of himself away ever since then, and yet - 

The lure of Sylvain’s offer had proven too strong to resist. 

For a brief moment, Dimitri starts to feel overwhelmed enough that he starts wishing he’d kept his usual Friday night appointment with his paperwork, but just as it teeters on the edge of too much, Felix returns with the water.

“Drink. You look like you’re about to pass out.” 

They sit in one of the quieter booths while Dimitri drains the glass slowly, and the cool water _does_ make him feel better.

“Feeling okay now?” Sylvain asks, and at Dimitri’s answering nod he smirks. “Then allow me to give you the full tour.”

 _Tempest_ is well appointed for its purpose - first and foremost, there’s a large bar with a sign proclaiming only one alcoholic drink per person, but an impressively diverse selection of virgin cocktails on offer. Dimitri recognises Yuri Leclerc behind it, who winks slyly when he catches Dimitri looking, in a way that’s a little bit too knowing to be comfortable. 

There’s also several stations in the main playroom for visitors with an exhibitionist streak, and a smorgasbord of different scenes in progress, from impact play to what looks like a particularly rough bout of edging. Sylvain points out the club monitors, indicated by their golden vests - Dimitri sees one of them go to intervene in a whipping that seems to have gone too far - and also indicates the door that leads to the private playrooms, discreetly tucked away in the far corner.

“Ask Yuri if you’re interested. The rates aren’t cheap, but they’re comprehensively kitted out, and there are even some themed ones.”

Dimitri files it away and lets Sylvain take him back over to their booth, where Felix is watching a shibari scene with a modicum of interest.

“Ah, Claude!” As they slide back into their seats, Sylvain beckons to a man shrugging off a monitor’s vest. “Now you’re off duty, come and say hi to Dimitri.”

It’s honestly astonishing how many of their old schoolmates seem to frequent this place. Claude seems just as Dimitri remembers him - gold earring, rakish grin - although he’s filled out some since they last saw each other.

“A newcomer to this sort of thing, are you?” He deposits himself in the booth opposite them, gaze curious. Not that Dimitri would expect differently.

“Not new to the scene, just new to _Tempest_.” Sylvain explains easily. Felix has moved to one of the floor cushions, kneeling, and Sylvain starts to stroke his hair. 

“It’s good to see you again, Your Princeliness.” Claude grins, and Dimitri reddens at the old nickname. “I’m one of the frequent flyers here. Dominant, in case you’re curious.”

“Uh… I’m a former frequent flyer, I suppose? Out of practice, certainly.” Dimitri knows he’s blushing, can sense it, which just makes him blush _more_ \- but Claude only smiles.

“I see. Were you looking to brush up tonight, or just to observe?” he gestures around the room. “I’m sure there’s plenty of tops about who’d be more than happy to give you a reintroduction, or I can suggest some scenes coming up that’ll definitely be worth a watch.” 

Dimitri’s tempted. For all the old memories threatening to surface, being back in a place like this makes him want to scratch the long-unscratched itch. The fact that Claude didn’t even ask which way he leans must mean he’s making the nature of his needs all too clear.

The rational part of him, though, wins out. “As much as I might like to, it feels… unwise to do more than watch. At least, for tonight.”

“Sensible, I’d say, if it’s been a while.” There’s a note of approval in his voice. “When you were a regular, what sort of things did you get into?”

Dimitri finds himself talking relatively openly about his experiences, and it doesn’t throw up as much emotion as he’s expecting, which feels like a win. Claude listens attentively, nods in a way that doesn’t seem perfunctory and that Dimitri might even interpret as interest. They talk about what they’ve been up to since the academy, too - for Dimitri, taking over Blaidydd and Co., much as expected - although Claude apparently has handed over the Riegan PR empire to a cousin and now sits on the board of several non-profits.

At some point, Dimitri realises Sylvain and Felix have slipped away, and they’ve been talking for over an hour.

“Well, as wonderful as it’s been to catch up, Yuri did ask for my assistance in taking Ashe apart, and our slot’s coming up.” There’s a new, slightly more dangerous glint to Claude’s eyes, and Dimitri feels the embarrassing uptick in his heart rate. “Sounds like it might be up your alley, if you’d like to watch.” he tips his head at the bartender and his submissive, who’s now pink and wearing an ornate pair of nipple clamps.

“I’ll be there.” Dimitri finds himself promising, and Claude’s smile turns positively devilish.

“I’ll see you then.”

Dimitri watches as Claude heads to the station in the very centre of the room and starts setting up, checking the equipment and rifling in a toy bag. He gets another drink - the club’s hot, and even without taking part in any of the activities it’s made him thirsty - and finds Sylvain and Felix at another table, one better positioned to observe. Felix has the sort of hazy look on his face that suggests they’ve been busy while he was chatting with Claude, and Dimitri hesitates, wondering if he should leave them to it - but Sylvain catches his eye and beckons him over, ruffling Felix’s hair again.

“Don’t mind Fe, he’ll come back up when he wants to.”

The pair of them watch as Yuri and Ashe arrive and after a brief discussion the two dominants waste no time in getting Ashe tied front-first to the St. Andrew’s Cross, naked and exposed for them and the assembled onlookers. Yuri’s whispering in Ashe’s ear while Claude traces delicate lines across his back, and it would almost look gentle if not for the flogger in his hand.

They tease Ashe for a while, much to the delight of the ever-growing crowd, until he’s shaking against the restraints and whining weakly into the ball gag. Yuri steps back then, nodding at Claude, who gives the flogger - suede, Dimitri guesses - a few test swings.

He starts off slow, seemingly unaffected by the crowd’s wordless excitement, but the strikes quickly start to draw low moans from Ashe as he picks up the pace and the force. The pale skin on Ashe’s back is pink by the time Claude pauses - and when Yuri takes the opportunity to run his nails all over the marks left by the flogger Ashe actually lets out a shout, kicking against the leather of the cross.

“I’ve known Claude on the scene for a few years now - outside the club too, we play chess sometimes,” Sylvain offers quietly as they both take in the display going on in front of them. “He’s a good bet. You can trust him to take care of you, if you’re interested.”

Dimitri _is_ interested - watching Claude flog Ashe has him almost painfully hard, imagining what the sensation would feel like on his own skin, imagining being on the receiving end - and Sylvain smiles knowingly, pleased.

So he watches, and waits - sees Yuri and Claude bring Ashe effortlessly to the brink and back again before Yuri fucks him on the cross - and when the scene’s done and the aftercare finished he makes himself approach Claude, who’s propping up the bar and still keeping half an eye on his scene partners in one corner.

“Claude,” he gets out, trying not to descend into blushing incoherence. “That was quite the show.”

“Did you like it?” Claude’s eyes are twinkling, and there’s an air of satisfaction about him that wasn’t there when they spoke last. “I had fun. Yuri’s not a fan of impact play, so when Ashe fancies it I lend a hand.”

“It was... mesmerising.” Dimitri says honestly, and Claude’s smile widens. “It made me realise how much I’ve missed it.”

“I’m glad.” he snorts. “I don’t think Sylvain would have ever forgiven me, if I’d put you off it. He mentioned he thought you needed it.” Dimitri’s surprised but decides not to dwell on it, instead summoning up his nerve.

“You offered to find me a top who’d give me a refresher.” he says quietly. “I’d, um - well, if you’d be open to it, I’d love to - that is, would you be interested - “ 

“Use your words, Your Princeliness.” Claude says, smirking, and Dimitri looks skyward. “C’mon, I can’t answer if you can’t get the question out.”

“Would you reintroduce me to all this?” he blurts out, cheeks on fire. 

“Ask nicely.” Claude’s voice has the barest hint of dominance in it, but after so long even that’s enough to make Dimitri sway, ever-so-slightly, where he stands.

“ _Please_ , Claude.”

Claude surveys him intently - Dimitri can see the cogs in his head whirring behind his eyes - but must like what he sees because he fixes Dimitri with another grin, a touch more catlike than usual. “Well, can’t say I’m the sort to pass up an invitation like that. You’re on. Next Friday, same time?”

***

The following Friday rolls around both excruciatingly slowly and far too quickly - Dimitri leaves the office early but arrives at _Tempest_ almost late because he spends far too long getting dressed. By the time he arrives, he's panting for breath, and when he scans the floor he sees Claude’s already at the bar, chatting and laughing with Hilda. 

Sylvain and Felix are there too, off in a corner, and the sight of them is enough to reassure him - he catches Sylvain’s eye as he heads over to Claude, and knows he’s got a backstop, just in case.

Claude looks genuinely pleased to see him and they head off to one of the little prep rooms - not a playroom, but a small private cloakroom, where Claude’s already hung a jacket and a bag. He looks so handsome - dark skinny jeans, black shirt unbuttoned just-so - and it’s all Dimitri can do to wait patiently as he sits them down at the small table.

“Before we get started, then, the housekeeping. Did Sylvain get you up to speed on the house rules?”

As eager to begin as he is, Dimitri finds himself reassured by how thoroughly Claude goes through his limits - Dimitri’s and his own - and how he checks Dimitri’s absolutely clear on all the safety protocols and the like. They talk through the plan for the night, leaving out the specifics so there’ll be an element of surprise, and by the end of it Dimitri is close to vibrating off of the bench with how impatient he feels.

“Now that that’s done with…” Claude grins, and his voice slides right into authoritative, easy as anything. “Bend over.”

Dimitri swallows loudly and does as bid, bracing himself against the low cloakroom bench. He feels Claude’s fingers tugging at his jeans, then at his briefs. It brings back memories of going to play parties, collared and suitably attired for the occasion - and some occasions meant no attire at all.

Slender, slick fingers press at his hole, and Claude chuckles when he elicits a moan.

“Be patient, sweet thing.”

Claude teases more sounds out of him as he deftly works him open, pulling back whenever he gets too worked up. By the time Claude gets a third finger in, Dimitri is panting and desperate, his thighs trembling from the effort of keeping himself upright.

“That should do.” Claude says, and there’s a new edge to his voice that suggests Dimitri’s not the only one excited. “God, you make such pretty noises.” It sounds like he’s smiling.

“Th-thank you.” Dimitri manages, flushing still warmer at the praise.

“Before we head in, I’ve got a little gift for you. A warm-up, so to speak.” he walks around so he’s in Dimitri’s eyeline, and holds something out in his palm.

The plug is large, flared at its base, and made of what looks like black silicone, with thick ridges along the length of it. Dimitri swallows just at the thought of it being inside him, and Claude must see what it does to him because he laughs merrily.

“Does that sound good to you?”

“Yes, Claude.” Dimitri rasps over a dry throat.

“Wonderful.” 

He circles back behind Dimitri, there’s the sound of him slicking up the plug, and all too soon it’s pressing into him insistently. Dimitri rocks back against it, relaxing into the sensation, which is enough to make the plug slide the rest of the way home. 

Claude’s back in front of him, reaching into his pocket again. “Very good. I think… one more thing, then we’re good to go.”

The cock ring is leather, and the sight of it makes Dimitri actually salivate. Claude just grins, a little wicked. “Pull down your pants.”

He works the ring around Dimitri’s hard cock as deftly as he’d done the plug, and by the time he’s finished Dimitri is on even more of a knife edge of want. Five years’ worth of pent-up frustration isn’t helping the situation, but Dimitri catches himself actually trembling with anticipation as they leave the little cloakroom.

He walks gingerly so as not to jostle the plug too much, but makes sure to keep up with Claude as they head back into the main room. Sylvain, Felix, Hilda and Marianne are clustered into one of the larger booths, and Claude’s heading across the floor to join them. 

“Claude!” Hilda crows. “We’d just about given the two of you up for lost.”

“Sorry, Hil, got a little caught up in something.” she just rolls her eyes at that and pats the seat beside her, but before Dimitri can sit, Claude shakes his head.

“Before you do that, fetch us some drinks, won’t you, Dimitri?” he smirks. “On my tab, of course. What would you like, Hil, Sylvain?”

Dimitri listens diligently to their requests and, at a nod from Claude, heads over to the bar to put the order in. Yuri is bartending again, assisted by a submissive with red hair this time who Dimitri remembers as Hapi, and smiles when he sees Dimitri by the order point.

“Back again, blondie? Must’ve had a good time last week, then.”

“Indeed.” Dimitri blushes, remembering just exactly what he’d seen Yuri and Ashe get up to, but rattles off the list of drinks before he can forget - virgin cosmo for Hilda, iced tea for Marianne, two sparkling waters for Sylvain and Felix, and orange juice for Claude.

“And for you?” Someone pushes past him, and the movement is enough to jar the plug, just over Dimitri’s sweet spot, and he has to disguise his whine as a poor imitation of a sneeze. “Are you, uh, doing all right?”

“Oh, um, still water is fine. Thank you.” Yuri quirks an eyebrow but starts making Hilda’s cosmo. Dimitri tries not to think too much about the sensations - about just how turned on he is, secretly stuffed for Claude - and takes some steadying breaths, which seems to work. 

He’s carrying the drinks back to the table when all of a sudden, the plug _vibrates_.

It’s all Dimitri can do not to drop the entire tray - out of the corner of his eye, he sees Claude casually swipe at his phone and the sensations instantly intensify, making his legs shudder with the pleasure of it.

If not for the cock ring, Dimitri feels certain he’d be tipping over the edge, but instead he’s kept teetering right at the precipice.

“Are you all right, Dimitri?” Marianne asks, brow furrowing and making to help him from her perch on Hilda’s lap. “Do you need a hand?”

“Oh, he’s fine, Marianne.” Claude says easily, waving her away. “Just a little on edge, maybe.” Sylvain snorts into his hand and tries unsuccessfully to mask it as a cough, but Hilda just smiles, rolling her eyes indulgently. 

Once Dimitri’s served drinks, Claude keeps them there for who knows how long - maybe an hour, maybe ten minutes. Dimitri’s focus is narrowed almost entirely to the constant thrums of pleasure making their way through his body, and it’s so maddening and so _Claude_ that he almost doesn’t notice when Claude’s getting up from his seat. 

“Our room’s ready, looks like.” He gives Dimitri a subtle hand up. “See you next week, folks.” 

Yuri’s waiting for them by the innocuous little door, and as he leads them through the corridor of private rooms Dimitri’s hand goes to his wallet - but Claude waves it away.

“My treat. Your round next time, if that sort of thing bothers you.”

Dimitri doesn’t have it in him to protest and watches with interest as Yuri unlocks an unassuming black door, marked only with the number seven.

“You’ve got the place til’ morning. Usual conditions apply.” The bartender smirks. “Enjoy.”

Claude pulls him inside as Yuri heads back the way they came, and the sound of the door closing rings loud in the otherwise perfectly quiet room.

“Enough of a warm-up, I think.” he says, eyes dark and dominant. “Time for the main event.”

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Shakespeare's "The Tempest", because I'm on the nose like that...
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'm hoping to publish part 2 on Sunday as a combined day 2/day 3 offering :) You can find me on Twitter [here.](https://twitter.com/_outofthesun_)


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